


Keep Me In Your Heart

by emilysmortimer



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilysmortimer/pseuds/emilysmortimer
Summary: Mackenzie loses someone important. What will she do without him?
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Keep Me In Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Sorry in advance for the sadness...
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s a cold, winter’s night when her father dies.   
  
Will’s on air, has been for nearly forty-five minutes, and Mackenzie, having finished up the last of her work early, had snuck into the control room around thirty minutes ago to watch the making of the show up close.   
  
She’s absolutely enraptured by him almost instantly, though that’s of no surprise.   
  
They’ve been doing this for almost six years now (not including the three years they spent apart, with her halfway across the world in war-torn Islamabad, and him cooped up in his apartment near every day, ravaged by heartbreak) and she still finds herself lost in the way his lips move when he’s speaking, the seriousness in his eyes, his ability to captivate each and every audience member when reporting a story.  
  
His on-air persona is one of the main reasons she fell in love with him to begin with.   
  
He’s such a different person in these moments, his stoic facade never faltering. Such a different man to the one he is when they leave the newsroom of a night.   
  
The _Will_ to her _Billy.  
  
_Jim’s about to tell him to wrap up the interview so that they can cut to commercial when Tess barges in, demanding Mac’s attention.  
  
“Your mom’s on the phone,” Tess tells her (and she at least has the decency to look guilty for interrupting). “She says it’s urgent.”  
  
Mackenzie huffs out an indignant sigh at being dragged away, having wanted to watch the last section of the show from this exact spot. Surely whatever her mother wanted to discuss could’ve waited until they were off the air?  
  
She follows Tess out of the control room, careful not to disturb Jim as he feeds Will instructions for when they return from commercials, and makes her way upstairs to her office where the call is waiting for her.  
  
Settling behind her desk, Mac picks up the phone and fakes a cheery tone as she greets her mother.   
  
“Hi, mum. Everything okay?” she asks, and her mother dissolves into tears on the other end of the line. Mackenzie’s heart races as she’s filled with panic, dread, and she’s quick to repeat the question, desperate to know what’s wrong.  
  
“Mackie, I’m so sorry,” her mother replies through choked sobs. “Your father died.”  
  
And with that simple sentence, Mac feels her world fall apart. 

* * *

She’s still hunched over her desk around twenty minutes later when Will comes to find her.  
  
The show finishes without a hitch (thankfully), and he was now eager to get home and spend the weekend tucked up in bed with his two favourite girls.  
  
The second the camera’s were shut off, he was up and out of his chair and racing towards Mackenzie's office, forgoing his own for a moment. He'll change shortly, will return his own suit to the wardrobe apartment instead of having Maggie wait around for him. But he feels like he's not seen his wife all day, and wants to ensure she's almost ready to leave too before he faffs about with getting himself changed.   
  
His happy demeanour is quickly replaced with worry as he swings the door to Mac’s office open, wincing as it slams off the wall (she barely even flinches), and spots her with her head in her hands.  
  
“Mackenzie?” he calls gently as he crosses the room. She makes no effort to respond, doesn’t even acknowledge his existence. And though he’s sure to regret it later, he crouches next to her chair, covering her knee with the calloused fingers of one hand and repeats her name.   
  
“Honey, what’s wrong?”  
  
She finally looks at him, and it nearly breaks his heart to see her with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. His brow furrows in concern, and he worries for a brief moment that something is wrong with Charlotte.  
  
But it passes quickly, because he knows Mac would tell him the instant she found out if something had happened to their daughter.  
  
So what else could it be?  
  
It takes her a moment to find the right words - perhaps if she doesn’t say them, then they wont be true - but when she does, she says it in such a monotonous tone, with such a lack of emotion that he doesn’t initially believe what he’s hearing.  
  
She tells him exactly what her mother told her - that her father had been perfectly fine one moment, and the next he just.. wasn’t.  
  
It had been a heart attack, apparently. Not his first, and nowhere near as mild as the one before it. He wasn’t alone; her mother had been with him when it happened and stayed with him until he passed (and she doesn’t know if that’s sweet or disturbing).   
  
And, honestly, that’s all she was able to say.  
  
It’s heartbreaking that the final moment of a person’s life can be explained in merely a couple of sentences.   
  
But it truly was that simple.  
  
Her father was here. And now he’s not.   
  


* * *

  
It’s an ordeal to get her home, if only because she doesn’t seem entirely present.  
  
Will hates to do it, but he leaves her for a handful of minutes to go change out of his suit and into his own clothes. And when he returns, he finds she hasn’t moved an inch. She’s hanging her head. Her breathing is even, but he can tell by the tremble in her shoulders that she’s close to crying again, and he takes that as a sign to get them the hell out of it.   
  
He crosses the room to her once more. Without a word, he places a hand on her back and grasps one of her own with his free hand, and gently guides her out of her chair.   
  
Her fingers tighten around his own as he moves to pull away, and that mere action breaks his heart further.  
  
“I’m just getting your coat, Mac,” he tells her, and she lets him go then. He does as he said - retrieves her coat - and then helps her into it, wraps her up in it and drops a light kiss to her hair as he stands behind her.  
  
“Let’s go home,” Will suggests, his voice barely a whisper, just a breath against the shell of her ear. And though she doesn’t say anything to indicate that she heard him, she does reach for the bag beneath her desk and her phone, which sits atop a mountain of paperwork that she’ll have the joy of sorting through when she returns Monday morning.  
  
But they don’t need to think about that for now.   
  
Will takes her hand once more and guides her out of the office. He wishes Maggie a goodnight on their behalf, steadfastly ignoring her look of concern. Jim furrows his brow as he spots them - he’s the one person in the office besides Will that can read Mackenzie like a book, so he’s quick to catch on that something’s wrong - but Will merely shakes his head once response, a simple gesture that goes unnoticed by Mac.  
  
He’ll text or call Jim over the weekend to let him know.  
  
But for now, his only concern is getting his wife home.  
  
There’s a car waiting for them downstairs, and they’re quick to bundle into it, the night air brisk and bitter and chilling them through within seconds. He wraps himself around her once they’re buckled in, and he’s grateful to feel her settle against his chest, if only because it shows she’s somewhat present.   
  
They’re silent the entire drive home, even more so when they enter the apartment, careful not to disturb their sleeping daughter.  
  
Mackenzie disappears down the hallway as Will relieves the nanny, and even _she_ questions the woman’s strange demeanor.   
  
Once she’s gone, Will traipses after his wife and is unsurprised to find her hovering in the doorway of their little girl’s bedroom. There’s been many a night that he’s woken up to find Mac’s side of the bed cold and empty, his wife having long gotten up and vacated to Charlotte’s room to watch her sleep.   
  
Even now, when their daughter is almost two and long-limbed and entirely like her father, in looks and personality.   
  
His hands come to rest upon Mac’s shoulders, slow and tender so as not to startle her, and he feels rather than hears a heavy sigh leave her.  
  
“I’m so sorry, honey,” he tells her sincerely, having realised he’s yet to acknowledge the situation. And it’s with those words, so sweet and loving, that she breaks again. A heart-wrenching sob leaves her (luckily their daughter is a heavy sleeper, or it would’ve definitely woken her), and Mackenzie turns in his arms, buries her face in her husband’s chest in hopes it’ll drown out the sound of the cries that wrack her body.  
  
Will feels his shirt dampen as she lets her tears fall, long and slender fingers grasping at the fabric, and he feels tears well in his own eyes. He can’t stand to see her like this - his Mackenzie, who is strong enough for the both of them, the light of his life, the one person that can make him laugh even when he’s at his lowest.  
  
He holds her tightly, his grip matching her own, and they let themselves cry there in the doorway of their baby’s bedroom, the pair illuminated slightly by the light of Charlotte’s night light.  
  
He’s unsure of how long they stand there, lost in themselves and one another, allowing themselves to succumb to the enormity of the situation, overcome by grief and sorrow.   
  
But it’s a while (of that he’s sure) before Mackenzie’s grip slackens and Will encourages them away from their daughter’s bedroom and into their own.   
  
She immediately settles on the edge of the bed; she’s exhausted, both emotionally and physically, and her limbs feel heavy to the point that she no longer trusts her own legs to hold her up.   
  
She doesn’t know what to do next, doesn’t know what to think or feel, and it’s scary - the unknown.  
  
Will is there, though, as he always is. Her knight in shining armor.  
  
He helps her out of her heels, crouching beside her yet again, and were it a different situation, she’d scold him and remind him of his troubles with his knees (though she’s fairly certain he doesn’t actually need reminding).   
  
When he stands, he helps her to her feet, too. Unzips her skirt and lets it pool on the floor at her feet, begins to unbutton her shirt with expert fingers. Rids her of both the shirt and her bra, and leaves her standing in the cold of her bedroom while he retrieves one of his t-shirts for her to sleep in. Helps her into it when he returns, and rubs at her arms as they erupt in goosebumps.   
  
She gets herself settled in bed upon his insistence as he changes out of his clothes and into a pair of his pyjamas.   
  
The pillows and thick duvet are a warm welcome. Mackenzie finds herself practically melting into them as she waits for her husband to join him. When he does, she huddles up against his chest, and he’s quick to wrap her up in his arms, pressing a gentle kiss into her hair as she makes herself comfortable in his hold.   
  
As she lifts her head, he sees the glimmer of fresh tears in her eyes, and he wipes at one with his thumb as it falls. Despite herself, she offers him a smile, and it’s one of the saddest that he’s ever seen, so he kisses it from her lips, his fingers tangling in her hair.   
  
Mackenzie sighs, relishing the feeling of his lips against hers. It provides her with a brief moment of normality.   
  
He breathes an _I love you_ as he pulls away, his forehead resting against her own and his thumb caressing her cheek. She utters it back with such ferocity that he feels it in his heart.   
  
She shifts, so her back is to him and his arm is wrapped securely around her waist, his body flush against her own. It’s not long before she feels his grip slacken and his breathing even out, and she’s slightly jealous because she doubts she’ll sleep tonight.   
  
But she does, and before she knows if, the sun’s up.   
  


* * *

  
She wakes to a slither of sunlight peeking through the grey of the clouds. Will’s side of the bed is empty, and she says a silent thank you that she’s not the one that had to get her daughter up this morning, because as much as she loves Charlotte, she’s loud in the early hours and Mackenzie can already feel the beginning of a headache.   
  
It takes a moment for the night before to come back to her, but when it does, her heart feels heavy.   
  
Her thoughts turn dark - when did she last speak to her father? Did she tell him she loved him when they ended the call? Was she rude? Did she rush to get off the phone because she was too busy with a catch up?  
  
How is she supposed to cope knowing she can never feel his arms wrap around her in a hug that offers the comfort only a father can provide? Knowing she can’t tell him she loves him, or call him when she needs advice, or send him regular pictures of her daughter?   
  
And how will Charlotte feel, with no grandfathers to love and spoil her while she grows?   
  
There’s so many things they won’t get the chance to do now he’s gone, and it’s those thoughts that send her into a flurry of tears yet again.   
  
She doesn’t cry, not audibly. She simply rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling and lets the tears silently fall. She aches in a way she can’t put into words, though she supposes you never can with loss. Describe it, that is. Her chest feels tight and her limbs feel numb and she _wishes_ that she could have him back. If only for a moment. Just so she can hug him and tell him she loves him and call him “daddy” one final time, like she did when she was a girl.   
  
Will finds her like this a while later, wrapped up in the duvet, cheeks stained with tears that refuse to let up, no matter how hard she tries.   
  
Charlotte is playing in her room, occupied by her dolls that he knows will keep her busy for a while. So, without a word, he climbs beneath the covers and wraps himself around his wife, who does nothing to acknowledge his presence, simply continues to cry and allows him to hold her for a while.   
  
He’s a solid weight against her as his hand snakes beneath the hem of her shirt and comes to rest against her stomach, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, his nose nuzzling into her hair. It calms her, and his ability to do so in any situation without saying a word is one of the reasons she fell in love with him.   
  
The tears dry up eventually (thankfully, all this crying is exhausting her) but still neither of them speak. Will’s breathing is soft in her ear, to the point where she wonders if he’s fallen asleep again, but he strokes at the skin of her stomach with calloused fingers, indicating he was still awake.  
  
She’s not sure how long they lay like that before Charlotte yells a needy _daddy_ from her room, and her tiny feet come thumping down the hallway. She comes to a halt outside her parents bedroom, only entering when she has permission from Will.   
  
He rolls away from Mackenzie to help their daughter as she scrambles up onto the bed, quickly worming her way between her parents. She’s eager for a cuddle from her mother, who’s usually the first to greet her of a morning. Tiny fingers pat at Mac’s cheeks, and she rolls onto her side to face her child, gently grasping at the girls wrist and pressing kisses against all of her fingers, causing Charlotte to erupt in giggles.   
  
“Hi mommy,” she breathes. It’s the sweetest sound in the world, hearing her daughter refer to as such, and for a moment everything feels okay.   
  
Mac catches Will’s gaze over Charlie’s head, and he offers her a slight smile that she finds herself returning.   
  
“Good morning, baby,” she says in return, her voice hoarse with disuse. She brushes the curls away from Charlotte’s face, huffing out a breath as the girl throws herself at her mother, completely unprepared for the sudden onslaught of affection.   
  
Mac reaches her hand out to her husband as their daughter settles against her chest, and tugs him closer as he grasps at her fingers with his own. He wastes no time in shuffling closer, cuddling up to his wife, Charlotte sandwiched between them.   
  
She’s a whirlwind at this age, always racing around, her parents struggling to keep up. She’s eager to learn new things, adventurous and curious, far smarter than she should be at this age. And while both himself and Mackenzie are _obviously_ thrilled that she’s developing her own little personality, it’s becoming rare that they have moments like this, so they’re certain to make the most of them when they happen.   
  
Of course, it doesn’t last long. Charlotte quickly becomes unsettled, fidgeting out of Mackenzie’s arms and launching herself from the bed as she declares she’s off to play again. Mac can’t help but feel a little disappointed - there’s a pounding behind her eyes that’s refusing to let up, and she feels as if she could break down at any given moment, so a quiet morning would’ve been ideal. But she supposes moping around in bed will do no good, and she should probably give her mother a ring.   
  
So, she’ll get up and get on with her day… soon.  
  
She just wants a couple more minutes of peace with her husband before she has to face reality once again.   
  
“You okay?” Will asks her. It’s probably a silly question - of course she’s not - but he’s unsure of what else to say. He’s good at providing her with comfort, but not so great with the words, but she doesn’t mind. She loves him for trying.   
  
“No,” she tells him sincerely. “But I will be.”  
  
He nods knowingly, before leaning across the pillows and pressing a loving kiss to her lips that she reciprocates wholeheartedly.   
  
God, she adores this man.   
  
“I better go make sure she’s not drawing on the walls or something,” he tells her, which makes her laugh, and it’s perhaps the most wonderful sound he’s ever heard.   
  
She lets him go, and takes a few more moments to muster the strength to get out of bed herself. When she does, she drags herself into the bathroom, washes her face with cold water and brushes her teeth, steadfastly ignoring the dark circles beneath her eyes as she catches sight of herself in the mirror.   
  
And when she makes her way to her daughters room, idles in the doorway for a moment before Charlotte spots her and begs her to come and play dolls with herself and daddy, Mackenzie realises what she told Will just now was true.   
  
She’s not okay.   
  
But with these two loves in her life, she’s sure she will be. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> As always, please leave kudos and comments - I love hearing what you guys think. 
> 
> Until next time ♥️


End file.
